


Spit Your Blood and Bare Your Teeth

by Angelpuns



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Mchanzo, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Farmer's Market, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, PTSD, PTSD Dreams, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, domestic farm life, dumbass cowboy time forever, farmer au, futuristic cowboy au, lots of feeling talk, lots of pining, past with some abuse, space farm, traumatic past, very specific niche here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25330396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelpuns/pseuds/Angelpuns
Summary: “I don’t much appreciate being manhandled by a glorified farmer “ The man spat, attempting to wrench his injured arm from Jesse's hold. Jesse noted that, though he was pretty damn strong himself, this fella could have escaped if he had really tried. He wasn't short on muscle either, despite the way he looked under such fine clothing.“ well that’s too damn bad, sugar, you’ve got ta have stitches or risk gettin’ nothin’ short of blood disease in less than an hour” Jesse retorted, his grip becoming a bit tighter. The man flinched at that, finally sitting still and allowing Jesse to get a real look at the cut on his arm.He sucked in a breath when Jesse carefully touched at the cut with an alcoholic wipe, his stern features hardly changing despite the obvious pain, “ I will being aboard this rust heap. Surely you’ve got something nicer than this for real travel. This ship wouldn't last in the dark sector for more than a day, I'm certain"“Sorry, ol’ gal is best I got. Shame she has to hear someone insultin’ her, she might just break down on purpose” Jesse retorted with a snort, pulling away to thread the surgical needle he'd pulled from his kit.“ that is not funny in this situation, Farm-boy”
Relationships: Jesse McCree & Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Trouble Had Never Looked so Goddamn Fine

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: this fic is on hiatus for an indiscriminate amount of time It was going to be a test run for other McHanzo fics, but I have other ideas I'm more interested in right now. This was definitely just a place to get a feel for the style of these characters/ their emotions before moving on, so I'm not sure if I'll ever finish it.

He had always loved the hum of cicadas in the late summer. They reminded him of music, a gentle bass accompaniment to the lazy chirps of songbirds. Sometimes he'd bring out his pop's old guitar and play a few chords himself, clumsily add a melody to the song nature was playin'. Not tonight, though. Woken by a nightmare that had gotten too intense, Jesse Mcree laid himself out on the rocking chair on his front porch, a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips. He had watched the smoke rise and curl into the never-ending stars above for a while, before finally tipping his hat over his eyes and letting the near-finished butt fall into the ashtray at his feet. It landed with a hiss among discarded butts of nights passed, the man murmuring a soft 'bullseye' under his breath. Mcree never missed a shot, after all. He rocked himself for a while, letting that gentle, comforting hum fill him from the toes up before slowly stopping and letting himself drift off under the stars.

_Jesse Mcree stands in the kitchen with his back to the door, waiting patiently for his Pop to return from a long day at the bank. Usually the room is warm. Filled with a soft humming and the smell of something spicy cooking. Sometimes there's a clang and a soft curse in another language, one he recognizes but can never place. Standing and staring out the window into a sea of empty space, Jesse knows the situation well, but it feels so far away. So foreign. He glances down at the kitchen counter, the sleek shine of his Pop's pistol a rare sight to him. He was never allowed to touch it. Too dangerous for a boy of fifteen. The sound of the old ship wheezing it's away across the dusty land and up to the house pulls him from his reverie. He reaches for the pistol, the cold grooves of the handle familiar despite having never touched the thing before. He'd even used a cloth to pull it from Pop's safe. Thinking that if he changed his mind at least no one would know. It was too late for that kinda thing now. He was surprised to see rough, calloused hands instead of the scrawny fingers he was used to. Then again, he wasn't fifteen no more. Jesse turned suddenly as the door opened behind him, the creak sounding too far away despite how small the ranch house was._

_" On your knees," he snapped, hand trembling as he pointed the gun right between his Pop's eyes. The man before him said nothing, shock and fear replacing is bored expression. He dropped his things and fell to his knees as instructed, a bead of sweat slipping down his temple._

_Jesse walked forward the few steps between himself and the cowering man that he found himself looking more like every day as he approached his forties. The only difference was that he didn't have the glasses or the cropped cut his father had always worn, wanting to seem more professional than he was. More of a man than he was._

_The barrel touched the man's head, Jesse putting as much as pressure on it as he dared. His hand still shook, his forefinger nearing the trigger._

_""Jesse...please, son...why don't ya just set the gun down and we'll-we'll talk!" His pops had pleaded, sweating even more due to nervousness and the heat of the house under the intense sun._

_" There ain't room for talkin' no more" The boy-no-man replied, hands steadying with each breath, each glance at his father's face, so much like his own. He hated that face. The face of a cheater. A coward. " You're the reason she's gone-"_

_He'd closed his for a moment, tears burning behind them. He hadn't cried in ages. He couldn't believe he was going to now, in front of a bastard like this._

_"Jesse.."_

_He opened his eyes at that, flinching when-instead of his pops-his mother's face looked back at him. Her skin was pale, eyes wet with tears. Her lips were dry and cracked, a bluish tint starting to set in. He shuddered, swallowing his own tears roughly._

_" Jesse, you knew about it, didn't you? You knew..." She whispered, voice becoming even more faint, " you knew..."_

_Jesse was quick to shake his head, gun trembling in his grip again, " I-I didn't. Ma, I swear, I-I didn-"_

_He was cut off by a bang, the man flinching and pulling away, before looking up and realizing what he'd done. His mother sat there still, a bullet hole going right in between her eyes. Eyes that pleaded with him and made him nauseous with guilt._

_"Jess..." She wept, something beginning to bubble under her skin, right around the bullet hole. He watched with horror as his mother's face became distorted, bubbling and shifting until it became a mass of gore, teeth and blood, rippling in with each word. She was screaming, each one garbled and choking. He covered his ears, only to realize that they were his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and continued to scream and scream and scream until the world faded into something he would almost say was sleep._

Jesse had woken without much start though the soft sheen of sweat and the ache of his jaw from grinding his teeth told him otherwise. He tilted his hat back, eyes instinctively closing against the bright morning sun. He rubbed them a bit before standing with a groan and heading inside to make himself some coffee, figuring he might as well get up and get a bit of a head start on the day. His arm glinted in the sun as he strode ack into the house, the leftover scar of his brief time in a gang. He usually took it off to sleep, but more often than not fell asleep despite knowing how stiff and angry the joints would be in the morning. 

His head finally stopped pounding with the bit of caffeine in his system and the man set to work on his daily routine. Quick, cold shower to wake himself up, followed with picking through dirty laundry on the floor to find something that didn't smell like dirt and horse shit. He finally pulled on a comfortable, slightly dusty flannel and some old jeans. He finished it off with his usual gear-boots, dusty old Stetson and his gun, safe in its holster. 

It was just about 10 am when he stepped out onto the porch with a cigar between his lips, a nicer feeling than the cigarette of the night before. Those were cheaper, but he liked a good cigar when it was finally time to work. Jesse first set to taking care of Ruthie, a near-black appaloosa with a few white spots dotting her hips and back. She was restless, wanting her breakfast and water in a hurry. She'd become quite the spoiled brat after Jesse had bought her from an old farmer that was going bankrupt. It wasn't uncommon 'round here, what with the other farming planets being so close and all. Jesse just hoped he'd last long enough not to die of starvation. He had something else in mind when it came to leavin' this world. 

Once Ruthie had gotten her breakfast and a few loving kisses on her nose, Jesse loaded up the old cruiser. It was small and old, parts having been replaced with scrap metal and parts of other ships on both the inside and outside. She had some minor scrapes right now, but nothing to worry too much about. He didn't plan on taking this old girl into deep space anytime soon, after all. Jesse had modified the cruiser for deliveries, taking out the two other seats in the cockpit to make room for more fruits and vegetables. He'd also take out one of the two cots and left it in the barn to rust. He had slept in the cruiser a few times when he's been caught needing repairs or just a change in scenery, but he didn't seem himself bringing too many people with him. No need for the second bed. Other than that, he had left the bathroom and the little dining table as is, liking the vintage and nomadic feel. It reminded him of his days with Gabriel and the gang, always on the ship, only stopping on land for resupply and to hide out on occasion. 

What Mcree didn't miss was the tension. The anxiety that something could go wrong at any minute. The most the had to worry about here was a misplaced box of corn or an unruly customer.

Jesse finished loading up the boxes of fruits and vegetables and go in, settling himself comfortably in the 'captain's chair', though he couldn't say this ship would ever or had ever had a real caption. It's probably e scrapped and left to rot when he died, as old as it was. Jesse started the ship after struggling to turn the key, something he'd never had the opportunity to fix, nor the money to get someone else to. After a few more wiggles and turns, the ship came to life with a groan, the dull hum of it a small comfort he allowed himself. Jesse shifted a bit in his chair, determined not to leave yet another dent in the ship as he was leaving. He'd hit his own mailbox more times than he'd like to say, though, it wasn't as if he ever really got mail. 

He'd had something like a pen pal, back when he'd been robbing people at gunpoint and fighting with the best of 'em. It had amounted to nothing, though, Jesse's heart sinking when he recalled their last few letters. He could hardly remembered how they'd met in the first place, but he could remember their last words to each other like a prayer he'd been forced to memorize. 

He sighed, watching as the dusty, sparse landscape zipped by. It really couldn't have amounted to anything, even if he found his heart and his crotch painfully lingering on the details of one Mr. H's letters. He tried not to let the nausea grow when his feelings got stirred up like that at the thought of a man. It was over. It was just a stupid phase. A damn stupid one, too. 

Jesse forced himself to relax when the town came into view, the buildings caked with red dust and dirt. Few people were on the streets, the ones that were just as dirty and dusty as the buildings around them. He turned into an alleyway, the path having a formed a well-worked routine into his brain as well as the road. He stopped behind a large, green building, parking just outside of the door marked 'employees only' The man made quick work of getting out of the cruiser and grabbing a couple of boxes of apples. He was setting a box of carrots next to that when the door opened, revealing a familiar, hearty smile. 

" Damn, you sure are early, Sweetheart" The woman before him was small, much smaller than him-but about ten times as quick-witted. If Mcree was a charmer, Ms. Hannah Clermont was something far more dangerous. She could talk anyone into tradin' or buyin' whatever she wanted. She'd even managed to get Jesse to lower his prices, but the next day he'd hiked them right back up as his own special 'fuck you' to his favorite customer. 

" Woke too early to try 'nd get back to sleep" he mused, chuckling.

He set the final box down and she joked that she was gettin' too old to carry the boxes, but Mcree knew she was more than capable. 'Sides, they played this game every week, Hannah wantin' him to come in for a drink or two only for Mcree to say he had more deliveries and be on his way. Her mixed drink were nice on a hot day like this, but Mcree knew better than to take a sip in public. He didn't drink for pleasure, after all. 

He continued on his route, the usual play and banter of his customers welcome after a rough night, It was comfortable. Warm. Safe, even. Trouble didn't make it's way onto Neutera, after all, the planet's neutral status in universal affairs even stretching to it's name. But trouble still swept through from time to time, though the moments were as fleeting as a tumbleweed in the wind. 

Jesse had just finished his final delivery when he heard bangs and shouts, instinctively going for his gun. He stopped the cruiser in an alley, turning it off despite knowing he might have to run. He didn't want the engine to get frazzled sittin' idle like that. 

Hearing the shots cease for a moment, he peeked out from behind the building, gun at the ready. He'd been hoping for nothing more than a bar fight that had gotten out of hand, but the sight was so much more than that. It was five or six against one, the men on the opposing side looking more like business men than gun wielding vagrants. They wore nice, crisp black suits and had guns sleeker than the hull of a cruiser. 

Jesse almost whistled in amazement, stopping himself for fear of breaking the silent stalemate. He glanced at the building across from him to see who these guys were packin' so much iron for. However, he only saw one strangely dressed man before him. He too was wearing more professional garb, sleek black pants with a deep blue jacket that Jesse could have swore was made of silk the way it caught the sun. He had his own gun, much like the other mens', but Jesse could see a elegant blue bow as well as a quiver of arrows strapped across his back. He had pulled his hair back into a black ponytail, but Jesse could see bits of grey streaking through- a telltale sign of his age. He couldn't have been much older than Jesse with hair like that, yet here he was fighting against five much larger guys with just his gun and the buildings between them to guard himself. Jesse didn't realize he was staring until it was too late, the man suddenly turning and making stark eye contact with him. 

Trouble had come to Neutera, and it had never looked so god damn fine. 


	2. The Glorified Farmer and his Shitty Cruiser

Trouble doesn't often come to Neutera. A few bar fights here and there. Some robberies. Even in a dusty little town without a name to speak of, trouble was limited to the locals acting a fool. 

The last time the dusty little town had had this much trouble was way back before it was even a town. Back before Neutera was even Neutera. Now some fella had come in with his fancy clothes and guns and stirred up the red dirt and dust that covered the planet. 

Knowing the stalemate between the men down the street and the handsome man before him wouldn't last, Jesse took a bracing breath and ran across the road, kicking up dust with each footfall. He dove behind the building the other man had taken shelter behind, just as a spray of bullets came from the opposite direction. He whistled, taking off his hat and running a hand back through his hair in relief. Now he just had to survive the rest of the gunfight. Why he ran across to help a man he'd never met, Jesse Mcree would never really know. Ever since he'd left Blackwatch, the man had felt a deep need to help strangers and friends alike. Physically or financially, even if he wasn't holding up too well himself. Maybe it was the guilt of having survived the people he most loved. Maybe he was just atoning for the numerous sins on his record. He didn't know. Never thought too hard about it, after all. 

" hey, sugar, you in need of some-" Jesse cut himself off when he turned and had the hot muzzle of a gun pressed against his forehead. 

" Don't. Move." the man before him snarled, his stern face only making him more threatening, " what do you think you're doing? Did they send some farm-boy assassin after me?" 

Jesse chuckled weakly, flinching when the the gun was pressed a little harder against his skin, definitely leaving a mark. He was certain it'd leave an even bigger one if he didn't hurry and explain himself. 

"He-hey now, calm down! I'm just a friendly cowboy passing through. Heard the gunshots and thought you could use a hand, " he assured, shooting the man before him a genuine smile. The muzzle pulled away just a little, Mcree hoping it would eventually be back at the man's side. 

" Lotta men for a single, well dressed man like yourself," he continued, " mind givin' me some details bout these folks that I'm about to shoot at?" 

The man narrowed his eyes, staring into Jesse's with an intensity that he could only compare to a striking viper. It made him shiver a little, but he kept his smiling, calm demeanor, feeling like a single wrong breath could make the man decide that he wasn't to be trusted. 

" I don't need your help, " He spat, pulling the gun away from Jesse's head and turning back to the well dressed men, " I can get this resolved without the help of some farm-boy"

" I prefer cowboy, what with the getup and the gun and all, " Jesse huffed in return, looking over the other' shoulder at the men. Two had left the group, presumably to come up from the back with a surprise attack. He checked his gun- six bullets was all he had, never really carrying more than that when he was just going on deliveries. He rarely used it on another person in Neutera, really only carrying it if he needed to help clear up a bar fight with a shot in the air or to wave at a robber to keep them away. He hoped he was still as good of a shot as he had been before, but he was a little out of practice. Jesse took a deep breath and poked his head out from behind the building, firing off two shots without much deliberation. He hit two of the men, though he could tell the injuries weren't fatal. Both in the leg, enough to keep them from pursuit. He caught another in the arm as he was lifting his gun to fire again, the man crying out and moving the gun to his other, clearly non-dominant hand. 

Deep breath. 

He ducked back behind the building, giving the stern man beside him a rather cheeky smile, " Say, what's your name? I'm Jesse Mcree"

The man didn't reply, huffing and glancing out from behind the building once again, only to duck back when another spray of bullets came, more wild than the last. 

"listen, fella. Two of 'em are about to flank us and if we don't get a move on, we'll be in real trouble " he explained, the man giving him a curious glance, clearly trying to decide if he was lying or not. 

His words were proven moments later, when two of the well dressed men suddenly appeared from behind them, one of them with a gun and the other with a knife. Apparently he'd run clean out of bullets, Mcree figuring the others were going to soon, too. 

c'mon!" Jesse grabbed the man's arm, bullets missing them by mere inches as he rushed the both of them across the street. He threw the man in front of him once they reached the alley, turning and managing to hit the gunman in the leg. He fell, but the man with the knife continued the chase, Mcree hurrying to catch up to the well-dressed man before him. 

He spat out directions as they ran, the cruiser suddenly right in front of them. They were fast, but the man with the knife was, too. Mcree leapt into the cruiser to start it, the stern man staying behind for a moment to keep the man with the knife at bay. Jesse struggled with the key, cursing the cruiser until it finally started. He grabbed the well-dressed man and tugged him into the loading bay, before hurrying to the controls and pushing the cruiser to go full speed out of the alleyway he'd tucked it into. The man behind him yelped as he and the boxes of produce were thrown with the sudden speed up. 

" Hold on to yerself, she's not meant for a high-speed chase!" He shouted, weaving out of the town and making a beeline for his farm. 

Hopefully the gang didn't have a cruiser too close by, Jesse figuring they'd upturn the whole damn farm looking for the man he had 'rescued'. he could hardly call it successful, but at least neither of them had died. He made it to the farm in record time, coming to screeching halt just outside of the barn. 

" What do you think you're doing? They'll certainly find us here!" The man had since dragged himself up from the piles of crates and produce that had been flung to the back of the ship, his hands tight on the captain's chair. Clearly thinking he'd be thrown to the back of the cruiser again if he didn't hold onto something. 

" Don't worry, Darlin', I'm just gonna grab a few things before flingin' us out of the atmosphere, " Jesse retorted, stopping and hurrying to push past the other and out of the ship. He'd been calculating how much they'd need for a week or more out there and was prepared for how much it'd set him back. He knew it was stupid to try and save a man that had been nothing but hateful to him, but he figured he needed a break from life on the ground anyway. 'Sides, this man was far too pretty to get his head blown off in some stupid gunfight. 

Jesse made quick work of loading the cruiser, grabbing several more crates of produce and stocking the back til it was good to go. He considered trying to stuff the second cot back in, but decided wuickly that it would take too long. He'd just sleep in the captain's chair. Not that he slept peacefully anyway. 

" Alright, brace yerself for a rough ride, she ain't as young as she used ta be!" he warned, silently hoping he'd plugged all the holes and made the repairs he'd had on his to-do list months ago as he sped the cruiser away from the farm and up, up, up into the atmosphere. 

The flight out of Neutera was about an hour, the black and stars greeting Mcree again after years of staying tied to the ground. He didn't realize how much he missed the wide-open skies. It was a beautiful sight to behold, even if they were runnin' away. Once he was sure thy were far enough, Jesse set the cruiser to autopilot and headed for the back to greet his guest and - hopefully - get a name and explanation. 

" hey there, doin' alright? Ya don't seem the type suited for space travel 'nd all" he commented, giving the well-dressed man a lazy smile, " you got a name hot-shot? can keep comin'up with sweet-nothings to call ya, but they're gonna get more and more silly as I go on.."

The man looked up from his seat at the little dining table, glaring at Jesse like before. Thankfully, though, he seemed to trust Mcree a little more now, and simply sighed in response. 

" Hanzo. Hanzo Shimada" he murmured curtly, quick to look back at the tabletop. Jesse wasn't sure if he was contemplating something or just counting the stains and marks that littered the table. 

" What the hell was that all about- we don't get a lotta your folk 'round here. Specially not ones causin' so much damned trouble, " Jesse sighed, taking a seat across from him and setting his hat on the middle of the table, " You ain't no outlaw, are ya? Not that I'm one to judge, but I've been tryin' to keep on the straight and narrow for a while and I don't need the big boys watchin' me again"

" No, I'm...it's rather complicated family business, " Hanzo retorted, thinking for a moment before he continued, " I am on the run, but I am no criminal. My family was simply...overbearing and has sent their men to retrieve me"

Jesse snorted, the sound earning him another pretentious glare, " Retrieve? More like bring ya home in a coffin. Don't mind my rudeness, but ya seem to have the money for a fine cruiser, finer than this anyway. Ya couldn't just hop aboard and head into deep space on your lonesome?"

Hanzo grimaced, shaking his head a bit, " The Shimada family ships are too easily tracked. I managed to catch a ship heading to this minor planet and hoped to stay underground for a while...clearly they still figured it out.."

Jesse sighed, giving the man another look-over. He was handsome, like Jesse had though before. Even more so up close. He looked almost chiseled out of marble, with his pale skin and sharp features. Jesse hoped the feeling in his gut was just hunger, but he knew it was something more. He'd certainly have to give himself a talking to later, thinking shit like that again. 

His eyes slowly moved down, admiring the jacket and fine material it was made out of...

They stopped, though, Jesse suddenly standing and moving closer. He grabbed Hanzo's arm a bit more roughly than intended, the male cursing and trying to oull away. 

" what are you doing-"

" Hell, why didn't you say somethin' " Jesse retorted, referring to the the tear in Hanzo's sleeve. He pulled it down to reveal the gash underneath, Hanzo stifling a cry of pain and surprise. 

The gash spread across his bicep, a fairly clean cut despite the size. It wasn't too deep, but damn was it bleeding to hell. 

Hanzo fought to rip his arm away, Jesse letting him as he got up to grab the medical kit. It was pretty dusty, he'd never had to use it himself, but he'd kept it just in case. 

He sat the kit on the table and pulled his chair around to sit next to Hanzo, roughly grabbing his arm again and pulling it close to examine the gash. 

“I don’t much appreciate being manhandled by a glorified farmer “ Hanzo spat, attempting to wrench his injured arm from Jesse's hold.

Jesse noted that, though he was pretty damn strong himself, this fella could have escaped if he had really tried. He wasn't short on muscle either, despite the way he looked under such fine clothing.

“ well that’s too damn bad, sugar, you’ve got ta have stitches or risk gettin’ nothin’ short of blood disease in less than an hour” Jesse retorted, his grip becoming a bit tighter.

The man flinched at that, finally sitting still and allowing Jesse to get a real look at the cut on his arm.  
He sucked in a breath when Jesse carefully touched at the cut with an alcoholic wipe, his stern features hardly changing despite the obvious pain, “ I will being aboard this rust heap. Surely you’ve got something nicer than this for real travel. This ship wouldn't last in the dark sector for more than a day, I'm certain"

“Sorry, ol’ gal is best I got. Shame she has to hear someone insultin’ her, she might just break down on purpose” Jesse retorted with a snort, pulling away to thread the surgical needle he'd pulled from his kit.

“ that is not funny in this situation, Farm-boy”

Jesse scoffed, rolling his eyes and moving back to the cut, murmuring a warning before he began stitching the other up. Despite having never used this particular med-kit, Jesse's previous...occupation had made him a pretty skilled medic. He hadn't had to nurse too many injuries since leaving Blackwatch, but he still remembered everything he was taught. Gabriel hadn't been too good at stitchin' people up himself, so Jack had taken it upon himself to be the gang's doctor of sorts. He'd been real good, far better than Jesse, but he'd always told the male that he'd make a pretty good doctor one day if he stopped shootin' people. Jesse had laughed at the time, but remembering the conversation made him feel nauseous. He was nothing but a killer, he didn't have it in him to be some sort of hero or anything. Hell, he couldn't even take care of the people he loved. 

Jesse was woken from his silent reverie by a curse and a stern insult, the words hardly cutting deep. 

" That hurts-" Hanzo hissed, " You're medical help is nothing short of torture with how slow you're going. Do you even know what you're doing, farm-boy?"

Jesse sighed, " Sorry, princess, I have some whiskey in the cabinet if you need it, but I can't do much more than that."

He was suddenly feeling exhausted, a bone-tired feeling that he hadn't gotten in a good, long time. He ached from running and stuffing the cruiser with supplies, his bones suddenly feeling like lead. He was sure reminiscing about better times and having someone so conceited insult him wasn't helping. 

" Done, " he finished and wiped the needle before putting it back in the med-kit, making a mental note to sterilize it some other time, " quit yer bitchin' for a while so I can tell ya the plan. I'm still the captain of this ship."

He must've sounded pretty pissed, Hanzo suddenly shutting up and letting him talk without argument. 

" Now, Neutera and the surrounding planets are gonna be crawling with them goons from before, from what I can tell. Yer welcome to go back and let'em catch ya, or we can stay up here for a week or two and wait 'em out. My ship may not be in too good of shape, but her shields work just fine and I'm sure she can last long enough to keep us up here for a bit, " Jesse explained, getting up with a soft groan, " there's enough food for a month, but I've only got the one bed. Yer welcome to it, if you decide you wanna stay here for a bit. If not, I'll be happy to take ya back to Neutera. "

Hanzo was silent for a moment, clearly not wanting to stay with Jesse, but not wanting tp be caught either. He finally gave a resigned sigh and nodded, though he certainly didn't look pleased, " alright. I'll stay, even if you are simply a glorified farmer. I do not have much, but I shall repay you once we are able to go back to our lives"

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, a crooked smile playing on his lips, but Hanzo cut him off. 

" Let me make this clear. I do not like you, nor do I like this ship. I plan to be on-guard at all times and refuse to answer to your ridiculous pet names, " he continued, before standing and heading for the back room, " I am going to bed, this day has been quite exhausting. " 

Jesse watched him go, a little surprised. Then again, Hanzo clearly had a stick so far up his ass he was practically a scarecrow at this point. Pretty as he was, he had the tongue and nature of a rattlesnake, and Mcree wasn't too keen on people that stayed on guard like that. 

He cleaned up the med-kit and headed for the Captain's chair, knowing he was in for a night of restless sleep and aching bones. If it would keep Hanzo from going on and on about how shitty his ship was, though, he'd gladly sleep on the floor. He carefully removed his prosthetic and sat it aside, on the dashboard in front of him. He removed his shoes as well, attempting to get comfortable despite the rigid chair and the lack of ambient nature sounds that usually helped him fall asleep. He finally tipped his hat over his eyes and hoped it would be enough, soon drifting off to a restless sleep, much like when he was still on the farm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a rough chapter, but hopefully up to snuff :) They're both a little bitter, but nothing some quality time in a ship no bigger than a small house can't fix. Once again, I'm certainly open to critique when it comes to plot/inconsistencies


	3. Let's Disappoint Each Other

Jesse had really thought that the trip would go quickly. His passenger had a stick so far up his ass he was looking ore and more like a scarecrow, but he figured Hanzo would avoid him.

It was something he could only wish for.

Three days since they left Neutera. Three days of endless bickering. In the small confines of the cruiser, though, the fights were more like shouting matches. Jesse wanted to win so he could enjoy the mini-vacation. Hanzo wanted to win because he was just so determined to be right about everything. He complained as often as he could. Whether it was about the cleanliness of the cruiser or the fact that Jesse couldn't cook worth a damn - especially without proper tools or ingredients. The cruiser lacked a proper kitchenette, the only 'appliance' left the microwave. Mcree used it to warm lunches or snacks when he was on long deliveries, but he'd never really tried to make a full meal. 

He'd woken Hanzo one morning trying to make a proper breakfast, the tomatoes he'd been attempting to cook exploding a few minutes in. The leftover mush was completely inedible, as was most of Jesse's cooking., He'd never really had the patience to learn, especially not when he was in the gang. He regretted the decision now, though he wasn't sure if any level of cooking prowess could help him make a meal in the microwave.

Hanzo had rushed in, worried they were being attacked or something had happened. Clearly he had never been in a ship when it was being attacked. Jesse had made a joke about the tomatoes, earning him a glare and stern lecture pointing out why his cruiser was always so dirty. Jesse tried to keep calm, until Hanzo made a comment about his appearance as well. 

He'd given Jesse a once over before turning away, " To think I have to bunk with someone who not only can't keep his ship dirty, but reeks of mud and sweat himself." 

Hanzo gave Jesse a pointed look, clearly disgusted, " truly appalling. Tell me, farm-boy, have you ever had shower or did your mother toss you into the dirt the moment you were born? I wonder if the rest of your family acts and smells as you do. "

Jesse had been trying to keep from getting too mad. He knew they were both stressed. Hell, Hanzo had men with guns coming after him.

He'd tolerated the comments about the ship. He knew it was dirty, he couldn't hide that he never really gave it a good scrub. 

It wasn't so much the comment about his appearance that bothered him, but the way Hanzo talked about his family as if he knew anything. 

Jesse roughly shoved the plate with the remains of tomato back into the microwave, the glass chipping with the force of it. He slammed the microwave door, Hanzo flinching a bit at the loud bang. 

" You cans ay what you want 'bout my ship and how bad I smell, but I'll be damned if you talk about my mother. You don't know damned thing about me!" He snarled, " You think I wanna be up here with some rich brat runnin' from his problems? I've got better things t'do than babysit someone who can't even take the punishment his parents are handin' out! I'll bet ya spent all yer pocket coin on some stupid shit and they just wanna cut you off, spoiled brat!"

He was so close to Hanzo at this point that their chests were touching. It'd be so easy to punch him. To do what his gang would have congratulated him on. His hand balled into a fist, but he didn't move. Hanzo was clearly afraid. He had a stern expression, but it was wavering the longer Jesse glared at him. Jesse moved away with a grunted, ' leave me the hell alone ' , heading for the cockpit to try and calm down a little. He hasn't been in a fight in awhile, he wasn't gonna start now. Especially with someone as damn annoying as Hanzo. 

He sat in the captain's chair and tucked his hat over his eyes, wanting to sleep. He was tired. Tired of both the trip and of having to just...be awake. He was sick of the restless nights and the hopes for dreams that didn't have some aspect about himself that he hated. Jesse wished that he could just go to sleep and wake up without an ounce of worry or stress. 

***

A couple of hours passed, Mcree dozing off only to be woken every few minutes by his head falling forward a little too far. He'd purposefully sat so he wouldn't fully fall asleep, after all.

What finally woke him up for more than a moment was someone clearing their throat behind him. He groaned, grabbing his hat off his head and sitting up a bit so he could peek over the chair. Hanzo stood behind the chair, his eyes flitting around the ship. He had a plate in his hands, but Jesse didn't bother getting a good look at what was on it. Probably the tomato from before. 

" What the hell do you want?" Jesse muttered, sinking back into the chair. He figured the other had some more complaints and he sure as hell didn't wanna hear 'em. 

" I was simply wondering if you'd be interested in some lunch..or dinner...I'm afraid being on the ship has ruined my sense of time..." Hanzo explained, rounding the chair to show Jesse the plate albeit a bit timidly. His usual stern expression certainly held something little more... restrained. He didn't look as if he'd shred Jesse to pieces the next time he opened his mouth. 

Jesse glanced at the plate, then back up to Hanzo. Surely the guy wasn't going to poison him, he didn't know his way around a ship - certainly not an old clunker like this one. 

" it is carrots. I found some spices in the cabinets as well, though they weren't exactly my preference..." Hanzo murmured, handing the other the plate, " but they seem to taste alright."

Jesse sighed, finally picking up a carrot slice. It was slightly warm and a little sweet smelling. Potentially poisonous, but Jesse figured now was a good a time to go as any. Bottoms up. 

He took a small bite before eating the rest of the slice with a stifled moan of content. It was delicious. He couldn't even think of how Hanzo might have made something this good on this shitty little cruiser..

Jesse cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to seem nonchalant. He didn't need his already pretentious passenger getting an even bigger head. 

" It's good. What the hell is in it?" he asked, grabbing another slice and eating it in one bite. 

Hanzo looked proud, though it was pretty subtle. He seemed to sigh in relief, murmuring out a brief explanation on how he'd done it. 

" I must say, your produce is very nice on it's own as well. I don't believe I could have made something half as good with a more bitter carrot " he complimented, the words making Jesse smile faintly. 

"well, thank ya kindly. I like ta think I'm the best farmer in our little town..." he chuckled, not bothering to mention he was the only farmer in their little town. 

" yes, well...perhaps when this is all over and through we can make an arrangement. I wouldn't mind buying your produce more regularly, though I do not know where I am going to live as of now...." Hanzo replied, shuffling a bit where he stood, " I must say, I never thought I'd be eating produce, let alone buying it from someone like yourself"

That made Jesse stop, frowning faintly. He'd been feeling a little bad for getting angry earlier, but as it turns out, he was right. Hanzo really was just a spoiled brat. 

" People like me, huh?" He shoved the plate back into Hanzo's hands, not bothering to finish the food, " maybe 'people like me' should just mind their own damn business the next time a pretty boy starts a gunfight in town". 

He got comfortable again and pulled his hat back over his eyes, a little pissed he hadn't taken the cot for himself. At least then he had somewhere to storm off to. 

Hanzo stood there for a moment, before letting out a huff of air and heading back to the little kitchenette. Jesse liked to think he'd won that argument. So far it was Hanzo: three and Jesse: 2. 

He just hoped the arguments stopped so he could just float along in peace. Once they were sure that Hanzo wasn't gonna get gunned down as soon as they landed, he was droppin' that bastard right off where he found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am clearly struggling with chapter names so don't be surprised if they get more and more strange.


	4. Familiar

Things had been quiet the last couple of days. There were no more quips from Hanzo about how small and dirty everything was, but Jesse figured he couldn't simply avoid the other forever. After all, he had to come out of the cockpit from time to time to eat and he had to break the news that they would need to refuel soon. He spent much of his time trying to navigate where they could hide as well as figuring how much fuel they had left before they absolutely had to land. Jesse didn't want to push the cruiser to its limit.

They didn't have any emergency fuel, after all.

Jesse stretched, leaning back in the chair and trying to figure out how the hell to do this without it being awkward. Not that it mattered with how much he was avoiding the other. He really just wanted Hanzo out of his life at this point. He'd been more than accommodating for the stern man and found it just...infuriating every time he opened his mouth. He wondered how much of that could be attributed to Hanzo's bluntness. 

Jesse finally got up, feeling far too anxious to have a meager conversation with the man. He shouldn't be so damn worried about what the guy thinks. Especially this guy. 

As he exited the cockpit, he spotted Hanzo sitting at the little dining table, reading a pocketbook he'd supposedly brought with him. 

" Listen, we gotta stop on the next planet for a refuel. Yer free to run around and do whatever, but be back within an hour cause I sure as hell ain't gonna search for ya. I'm bringin' on an extra cot, so don't mind my cleanin' up a bit, " Jesse muttered, frowning faintly when Hanzo sat the book on the table and got up. 

" allow me to help, there are a lot of boxes, " He strode across the room and grabbed a box of produce, hauling it back to the kitchenette before Jesse could protest. He would have much preferred Hanzo simply sitting and ignoring him than receiving his help. 

Jesse sighed and got to work as well, the two of them soon finding a nice rhythm. Boxes were moved and passed between the two, some the produce that Jesse had brought and other's simply boxes of things he'd been meaning to take home and put away properly. Leftovers of his life before that he tried to hide away until he was ready to see them again. 

He passed a box to Hanzo, already turning back to grab another. He turned back, only to find Hanzo with the box still in his hand, a photograph in the other. He blinked at it for a moment, before showing it to Jesse.

" Who are these people? You look so much younger.." 

Jesse hesitated, the box in his arms suddenly feeling much heavier. 

" awh, well, I was in a gang back in the day. All of 'em were tough on the outside, but on the nights when we were all too tired to move, you'd have Jack and Gabe makin' dinner and the lot of us singin' songs " He chuckled, albeit a bit nervously, " they were my little family. real crazy bunch..."

As if to punctuate the end of the conversation, he strode past Hanzo and put the box away before hurrying to grab another. As long as he kept going, maybe the other wouldn't ask so many questions. It wasn't like he minded answerin', he just didn't really wanna think about all that. Not right now, when there were no cicadas to hum him to sleep. 

Hanzo took the answer as it was and put the box and picture away, getting back to work just as quickly as Jesse had. 

The two worked quickly and finished even quicker. Jesse had expected some more complaints about the hard work or maybe a few quips about how dirty it had been, but none came. In fact, he felt as if Hanzo's gaze on him was just a little less stern. A little softer. 

He scoffed at the idea that they had become friends, but by the time the work was done, Jesse figured they both deserved a drink. 

Even in bad company, a drink was a nice way to relax. 

He dragged a bottle of moonshine from one of the boxes, shaking it a little in Hanzo's general direction. 

" Lemme tell ya, this stuff'll get ya drunk quicker than anything," He chuckled, taking a seat across from the other and popping the wax seal off with ease. He took a sip, the slightly orange aftertaste still burning his tongue when he pushed it across the table to Hanzo, " Don't be shy, I don't got no diseases or nothin' "

Hanzo was a little hesitant, but finally took a pretty large gulp, his face twisting into a sour expression at the taste of it. 

" it is not my cup of tea," he began, speaking slowly as if he was deliberating saying anything at all, " but I see the appeal. I too think a good alcohol will get you drunk quickly..."

Jesse chuckled at that, taking the bottle and tossing back another long sip. He sat it down with a sigh, taking his hat off and plopping it onto the table, " thanks for yer help with the boxes...probably woulda took a lot longer by myself.."

The silence between them was awkward, neither really knowing what to say. Jesse had considered not thanking Hanzo at all, but his need to be polite despite his dislike of the other broke through. 

" Of course. It is my fault that we need to refuel and get another cot, after all...I only felt as if I should...pull my weight around here" Hanzo answered, standing and brushing himself off a bit, " Thank you for the drink. If you'll excuse me, I will be heading to sleep."

Jesse watched him go, taking another sip before capping the bottle and getting up as well. He stowed it back in the same box it had come from before heading back to the cockpit for another restless sleep. He settled into the seat, thinking that at least the hum of machinery was similar to the cicadas. It wasn't the same by any means, but it helped a little.

The next morning, Jesse woke early as usual. He made his way to the kitchenette to grab an apple or something, only to find a plate of the carrots Hanzo had made before sitting on the little table. He supposed the other had already eaten and left them out, but he soon realized they were meant for him. 

A note, written on the back of some crumpled notebook paper, read: _Thank you for the drinks. I am feeling much more relaxed. Here is some breakfast, please enjoy._

He found himself wondering again if Hanzo was trying to poison him, but finally came to the conclusion that he wouldn't. At least not while on the cruiser. 

Jesse sat and ate, reading the note f ew times over. There was something familiar about Hanzo. 

He'd thought that since they'd gotten on the ship, but had dismissed it. Now, reading the note, he found the careful words and tone of the note so...familiar. And oddly comforting. Jesse's heart all but fluttered at the thought, the male glancing at the carrots as if they had something to do with it. He was getting too comfortable, too quickly. Hanzo's close proximity was definitely making him crazy. 

The warm feeling in his chest took him back to his old pen-pal, but he dismissed the thought. He hadn't been like _that_ since he left the gang. He figured it was just the carrots messing with him, poisoned or not. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first McHanzo work, as well as my first on this site, but I hope to do the wonders of a space cowboy lifestyle justice. I type pretty fast and don't have anyone to proofread, so don't mind the errors here and there. I don't mind critique on things like plot and having a clear storyline, that's stuff I need to work on anyhow :)


End file.
